One Thousand Riddles

have we danced a thousand riddles?
seen a thousand dawns?
the yarn of forever, weaving
a place we can call home
this place, itself, spun from a hundred different dreams
dreams of madness, of kindness
of reason, of song
the birth of man finds me near
finds me in the face of the divine
a holy presence, that unwinds my body
unfurls my thought
unveiling the cost of it all
the price we all must pay
here, on the day that a smile torn down a mountain
where a breath, blew down the world
a world of ideas, of presence, of doubt
and as i stare outside, gaze at the world around me
i find nothing inside these eyes, nothing i can speak of truth
so where shall i be? where do i belong?
when all love is gone, the truth of man giving such meaning
to the pain of an endless wound, bleeding
forever, in the forest of hurt
planted in the dirt of longing
of seeing, where the waves of tomorrow
ripple, undulate, seem fascinated by a time
at times, no end, inside a moment
that has yet to begin
from the whirlwind of dream, here, sleeping
in the palm of my hand
i raise no flag here, call no triumph my own
but i long for tomorrow, long for forever, for the words of grace
to show me the face of morning, that shall cast no shadow
on the dawn of some long forgotten sorrow
a morning, that may bring in, the sounds of forever
the sounds of eternal flight, not begging for forgiveness
before the sun sets at night

Only Where Dreams Were Meant to Be

on the weight of the day
inside the eyes, that speak to me with a grace
that is only found, in another's dream
before i move through you, the ways you move
in the sun's ever present gaze
i shift through, the oceans of blue
that rest in the breath of morning's dew
in the dawn, where i am renewed
to find the waves of light, passing through the grace
that is your heart, on pulse of a dream
no one can seem to give you, anything but a kiss
on your cheek, when all has gone
and the tears are full, your soul does weep
and i sit on the death of a day
now, as the night follows with you
in the midnight hour, before the entire world has retired
from all it has seen, all that has been spent
i take what is left, left from my pocket
in these dreams tonight, and give it to the grace
that from your eyes, i see, in the veiled moonlight
all has gone, but for some fading memory
remaining here, hidden
wrapped inside, the days that have yet to wake, to find
all the color of dream, waiting for you and me
on another day, perhaps we shall find, this color
this laughter, yes, perhaps on another day , we shall see
all this truth, that waits, in a place, that only our dreams
were meant to be